


Somewhere In-Between

by Mstyeyed



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Brainwashing, Government Conspiracy, I don't know what universe these characters exist in, I just like these characters, Kidnapping, Lots of teen angst, Mental Health Issues, Multi, My First Work in This Fandom, References to Depression, Social Issues, Spies & Secret Agents, Terrorists, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Not Red Robin, Tim Drake is kinda not Robin, don't come for me, i don't know what I am doing, its Tim so what did you expect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:00:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24818764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mstyeyed/pseuds/Mstyeyed
Summary: Tim Drake deals with an existential crisis in-between being Robin and being Red-Robin... oh and there are terrorists and brainwashing and stuff that he has to deal with too.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	Somewhere In-Between

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooooo there.   
> So, this is my first fanfic in the fandom and I know it is rough but hey, you gotta start somewhere. Also, I like DC, Batman and the bat fam but I am not like a superfan or anything like that so I don't really know what universe or timeframe really this story takes place. (so hardcore fans please don't come for me) This was just for fun and because I like how DC sets up a lot of room for philosophical exploration in their characters' development.   
> All of the bats are so complex but Tim is especially fun to write for and allows me to tap into a sardonic side I don't get to explore too often.   
> So hopefully it doesn't suck too bad and thanks for reading.   
> And uh.... sorry in advance.

+++

Batman and I weren’t on the best of terms. I think. I actually don’t really know what terms we were on.

Somewhere in between taking me in, starting to raise me, training me to be Robin, and giving me control of his corporate empire, I think Bruce Wayne realized I wasn’t what he’d initially thought I was. And I wasn’t becoming what he thought I’d be.

And somewhere along those lines, I started to realize that being Robin wasn’t what I’d imagined either.

It wasn’t the answer I was looking for.

Which sucked—but so did pretty much everything in my life.

So this is where I find myself... a 17-year-old kid with way too much intelligence on his hands for his own good, and not enough looks to grant him any kind of respect for that intelligence.

At least that was something Batman had always given me; respect. He knew my brain was too big for my body. Which is why he always used to try to get me to stay in the cave—now I wish I had.

It was nights like this that I missed it the most. This walk back from the MMA gym where I tried to keep up the physic I’d earned during my Robin days. It was dark, only slightly chilly, enough that the light hoodie I wore over my gym clothes kept me comfortable. The city buzzed with life, some good, mostly dark. And Batman would be going out on patrol right about now. And I would join him.

It had been about a year since I’d been on a patrol with bats. And I had to give myself kudos for making it so long, for all the nights like this that I’d felt that pull to go back and tell him I changed my mind. But I haven’t. And I don’t actually know why... I just know, it wasn’t right.

But domestic life could get so boring sometimes too. My classes at the college campus served as a decent enough distraction... ok, who am I kidding. They bore me to tears sometimes, I don’t even know why I keep doing them.

I blame Alfred. He always tells me how helpful it would be to carry a college degree to “back-up that big brain of yours.”

Plus I know it would make him (and Bruce) proud... not that I really care that much but...

The breeze makes it through my hoodie momentarily and I shutter. It isn’t just the cold. Something doesn’t feel right. I feel off.

It’s the same feeling I always used to get right before an ambush or during a stakeout just about to turn into a fight. But it’s been a year since I’ve done anything like that... I guess old instincts don’t die—or maybe they just go bad. This is the college hub side of town, the good side. Not a lot of crime, just a lot of stupidity.

So why do I feel—

Melissa.

My eyes go wide.

She’s bussing tables in the outdoor section of the pub she works at.

I try to duck around a corner to avoid her seeing me but it’s too late.

“Tim! Oh hi! Hey!!!”

She waves an excited hand in my direction. Ugh.

Guess I should be nice. Dick is always telling me healthy human interaction is what cures depression. I think I’m the exception.

But I’ll make an effort....

“Oh hey, Melissa, I didn’t realize you worked on Thursday nights...” yuck, I’m so bad at making conversation. Too late, I already started it and now I’m in it. I turn and get closer to the pub.

She gives me a large smile brushing a strand of light brown hair off her face with the back of her hand which is dirty with dish filth.

“I actually don’t usually, I just picked this shift up for my girl Jane because she wanted to see her favorite band play tonight.”

Things that I don’t care about. Great. She’s pretty though, even if she isn’t my type, and a few years too old for me.

But the thing that kept me is that she didn’t seem to notice my size--or lack thereof. That was very....... unusual.

People always have something to say about a barely 17-year old teen who looks more like a 13-year-old in his second year of college (I tested out of pretty much all my gen-Eds saving a year’s worth of classes).

Doesn’t matter that I’m already a millionaire, the CEO of a fortune-500 company, own my own house and already served as a vigilante for two years, realized I didn’t want to and started my own company. No. I can’t grow a beard, so all of a sudden that makes me less deserving of respect--able to look down on.

Well, at least Melissa never treated me like that. So I was going to be nice.

“Oh, well that’s nice of you...” there I did my part. I was going to walk away—-

“So were you just at the gym?”

Okaaaay... so I’m not leaving... “um yeah”

“Cool! What do you usually do?”

Why does she even want to talk to me???

“I fight. like martial arts and stuff...”

“Martial arts and stuff, huh?” She giggled. “What’s and stuff?”

She set down the bin of dishes.

“Oh um... I mean I guess I just sometimes make up my own style” that Batman taught me.

“Your good enough at it that you can make your own stuff up?! That’s cool.”

“ I mean...I guess... if you’re into that sort of thing.”

She stared at me with a smirk. Oh no. I know that look... she was going to—

“You’re always so broody... I like it. You know, I’m actually getting off here in about 5 minutes if you wanted to grab a—“

She remembered my age just as she was about to ask me to go out for drinks.

“A bite to eat” I offered. It was endearing if not awkward that she forgot my age. The least I could do was make her feel less embarrassed.

She laughed, “yeah, I guess we could do that instead!”

“You do know I’m 17 right?”

She smiled mischievously, “aaaaand?”

“Well I just didn’t know if you being older than me and—“

“I’m only like a few years older, and besides, you’re more mature than most of the guys my age anyway...”

She has a point.

“Just wait here until I’m done and we’ll go to Sam’s Pizza or something—unless pizza's not your jam, then we could do somethi—“

She was rambling, I broke in.

“It sounds lovely Melissa, I like pizza it’s just... I kinda have something already going on tonight.”

I lied.  
Unless you can count moping about wondering why I’m still not back with Batman and pining over all the things wrong with me. Ok, go ahead. Judge me. A really nice beautiful, older-than-me girl asks me out and I try to get out of it. I just really need the night to myself, I promise it’s nothing against her.

Her face is torture... she looks so dejected. Oof.

I can’t do this...

“Buuuut, you know I could call them and reschedule.” I offered, kind of half-heartedly. I'm secretly hoping she’ll see my reservations and let me off the hook. She doesn’t.

“Oh really?!? Great!!! I’m going to go finish up and clock out! I'll be right back!”

She swoops up the tub of dishes and goes inside.

Crud. Now how am I going to mope?

I stand on the sidewalk of a college nightlife street, waiting for some girl I’ve only ever met in class a few times to take me on a date for pizza. Who even am I anymore?

I almost laugh, if Bruce could see me...

Suddenly, I get that feeling again. The one like something is off.

Shrug it off Tim, it’s probably just this whole situation you’ve just gotten yourself in. Just go get some pizza, have a good night and don’t screw it up, you might actually enjoy yourself.  
I tell myself in Dick’s voice...

Something in the corner of my eye moves. A shadow? A person?

I whip around to see a figure just as it dips into the alley.

Well, that’s fishy.

Maybe my instinct wasn’t as off as I thought...

I wish I could say I wrestled more with staying out of it, living as a normal human being would, but my curiosity got the better of me in all of 0.3 seconds. I was moving for the alley before you could say "Batman."

I rounded the corner much less cautiously than I should have and was met with a wall of toxic fumes.

I couldn’t pinpoint what kind of gas it was but it stung everything and it made my vision start to blur.

Almost enough that I didn’t see the fist coming for my face. My body moved reflexively. I dodged, parried, grabbed my attacker's arm twisted, and threw my shoulder into his sternum. He went sprawling back. I stumbled in my attempt to follow up. Shucks, this gas was making me light-headed. I fought it as I caught a glimpse of another figure emerges from behind me.

He grabbed me, this time I was too slow, whatever that gas was, it was really making the world tilt. I drove my leg into his shin, but didn’t really hit with the force I was trying to, it gave me a little break and I grasped the arm around me ducking down and spinning out of his grasp just as thug number one came at with a punch again having recovered himself. I tried to side-step but this time his fist made contact with my arm and I stepped in throwing an uppercut with as much strength as I had left. It connected with his jaw.

The world spun in front of me and all of a sudden the ground was right next to me. My head slammed against it. Next moment, both thugs were on me. One pinned my arms and legs (not that there was much I could do to resist them in the state I was) the other pressed a cloth against my face. This smell I did recognize. Chloroform to finish the job off. I tried to hold my breath but it only lasted a few seconds, my resolve was weak from the first gas and all I could do was try to get a glimpse of my attackers before the blackness swallowed my vision.

Then nothing.

Sweet nothing.


End file.
